Sat 18 August

Muggy weather, heavy and oppressive.

After a quick coffee in town, I spend most of the morning at the hotel, suffering with stomach cramp - a result of the body struggling to cope without cigarettes.

After lunch, my host and I take a walk through the town, stopping outside the home of a family friend who has since died.

More than two decades earlier, we attended a big celebration in this bungalow. The family used to have a piano and I loved running my fingers along the keys and pretending I could play.

I was a little boy then, at primary school, and I sampled the day of the celebration with the naive excitement of a child, especially when the family friend’s boiler nearly exploded and we had to drive into Blackpool in a crowded car, doing our best to rescue valuable items belonging to the family.

Yes, it all happened so long ago, and that vibrant lady and her husband are no longer alive. Instead, I see an empty bungalow, its soul ripped out after circumstances turned sour for everyone involved. I want to go home.

Facebook posting; 18 aug chips and peas from traditional lancashire chip shop, near coast, bottle of wine and sweets.